


here we are as in olden days

by miss_minnelli



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: 31 Days of Ineffables, Anniversary, Christmas Fluff, College AU, Crowley is kind of an idiot sometimes, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Human AU, M/M, Marriage Proposal, drawlight's advent calendar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21640336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_minnelli/pseuds/miss_minnelli
Summary: A collection of my drabbles from drawlight's advent calendar.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 19





	1. Mistletoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part of drawlight's 31 days of ineffables but I chose to stop at 12. Enjoy!

On the first day of the December after the Not-pocolypse, Crowley strolled into the bookshop and was greeted with an overwhelming smell of some sort of plant. This seemed odd, since despite Crowley’s best efforts, Aziraphale lacked any ability to take care of any plants at all.

Crowley sniffed the air again and discerned that the plants he was smelling were already dead. Well. Maybe Aziraphale had tried and failed to grow something that weekend (perhaps with very poor miracles?) and now it was lying dead in his backroom. Upon coming to this conclusion, he shook his head and called, “‘Ziraphale? You downstairs?” 

Moments later, Aziraphale came bustling out of the back room looking absolutely ridiculous but somehow utterly adorable. He was clad in a truly unfortunate Christmas themed sweater which featured a large reindeer with a working light-up nose. 

“Oh my--Someone. Angel that’s really something.” 

Aziraphale smiled, almost conspiratorially. “Isn’t it just?” 

Before Crowley could amend his statement and let Aziraphale know his real opinion about the sweater, the angel came up to Crowley, grabbed his sleeve, and yanked him a few steps forward. 

“Wh--what? Jeez, I  _ can _ walk.” 

Aziraphale cleared his throat and Crowley stopped complaining. The angel looked innocently into Crowley’s, for once, unobscured eyes and then deliberately flicked his own eyes up to the ceiling. Crowley followed his gaze and his eyes landed on a sprig of some sort of dead plant. Ah, that was where the smell was coming from. But why was Aziraphale staring at it and nudging Crowley in the arm?

“Uh, angel? Is this some sort of decoration?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Oh dear, you really have no idea what that is, you daft snake.”

With that, the angel put one hand on Crowley’s cheek and the other on the back of his neck. “It’s mistletoe, Crowley. You kiss under it. You kiss somebody you have _ feelings _ for.” Crowley raised his eyebrows. “Well, in that case…” he trailed off so that he could lean down and kiss Aziraphale sweetly, communicating all of his deep  _ feelings _ . Aziraphale smiled into the kiss and gave a little wiggle. Crowley would later discover, happily, that the angel had tacked up mistletoe all over the bookshop for that Christmas season. 


	2. Tradition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 prompt: Snow

_ Anthony Crowley and Ezra Fell have many traditions, but their oldest dates back to their first year of university.  _

Crowley was in the middle of studying for his astronomy final when he heard a knock on his dorm room door. His roommate Hastur, who was procrastinating studying for his own finals, shuffled over to the door and opened it. Upon seeing their visitor, Hastur didn’t say anything except, “For you, Crowley.” (The visitor in question came by the dorm room almost daily, and Hastur realized pretty quickly that he always wanted to talk to Crowley.)

As Crowley turned around, a voice softly said, “Hey, Anthony. Are you busy?” 

The visitor at his dorm room door was Ezra, a boy who lived down the hall whom Crowley happened to have a raging crush on. 

Crowley was, in fact, busy, but seeing Ezra was more important than any exam. He scrambled up from his desk chair and rushed over to the door with no semblance of coolness. (He had tried to be extremely cool around Ezra at first, but quickly discovered that Ezra made his stomach flip far too much to maintain an effortless, chill front.) 

“Hi there, Ezra” _ Why was he out of breath? Damnit. _ “No, not busy at all,” he lied, “What’s up? How’s it hanging? Everything good in the neighborhood?”  _ Dear God.  _

Ezra smiled back shyly, not really noticing that Crowley couldn’t stop rambling. “This might be really stupid. Stop me if it’s stupid, but I was wondering if you would maybe like to go outside for a bit and um, make snow angels?”

His eyes dropped to the floor as he waited for a response, and Crowley got the feeling that this was a very important moment in what he hoped would turn into a romance. “Of course, yeah. Let me get my coat.” 

A few minutes later, the boys were stepping out the front door of their dorm and Crowley smiled at the falling snow. “Ready?” he asked. 

Ezra grinned back at him and grabbed his hand. “Come on, I know the perfect place.” 

The perfect place turned out to be on the football field which was vacant and covered in a good few inches of untouched snow. 

Ezra let go of Crowley’s hand, walked a few steps onto the field, turned to face Crowley, and abruptly fell backwards into the snow. He smiled up at Crowley and started moving his arms and legs, creating the silhouette of an angel. “Come on, Crowley!”

Though he wanted to keep staring at Ezra, Crowley acquiesced and flopped down in the snow next to his angel. ( _ His what? _ )

He started moving his own arms and legs and his hand brushed Ezra’s. They both stilled, blushed, and shyly glanced at each other. 

Crowley briefly considered moving his hand away, in case this wasn’t what Ezra wanted, but instead he chose to be brave. 

“Hey, Ezra. Do you want to go get a hot chocolate with me? My treat.” 

Ezra nodded and the boys stood up. Their hands found each other and they walked to a quaint cafe to have what would be the first of many hot chocolate dates in their budding relationship. 


	3. How to Crack Nuts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Nutcracker

Aziraphale was making drinks in the back room of the bookshop (cocoa for him and tea for Crowley) when he heard some suspiciously loud slamming noises coming from the main room of the bookshop. 

He shook his head. It was always unwise to leave Crowley alone too long with a room full of knick knacks. Lord knows what he would get up to with all those distractions. 

Aziraphale poured each drink carefully into their favorite mugs and with a breath, pushed open the door to the shop’s main area. He was met with a very confused look from Crowley. The demon was holding up one of Aziraphale’s decorative nutcrackers which he kept haphazardly on a shelf above the Austen first editions. 

“Angel, this thing doesn’t crack nuts!” Crowley exclaimed. He seemed quite outraged and it was rather adorable. Crowley was holding a handful of whole walnuts in his hand not full of the nutcracker soldier. 

Trying not to laugh at his frustrated demon, Aziraphale put down the drinks and tried to work out this situation. “Oh darling-- wait, why were you trying to crack walnuts?”

Crowley shrugged sheepishly. “Wanted to see how it worked. But it doesn’t, see!” He made to try cracking one of the nuts in the nutcracker’s mouth but was stopped by Aziraphale swiftly grabbing the nutcracker from his hand. 

“No no, this is a decorative nutcracker, dear. It will break if you try too hard to crack real nuts with it!”

“Oh.” Crowley seemed disappointed. “Well that’s bloody stupid. What’s a real nutcracker look like anyway? Not that I want to crack nuts with something boring anyway,” he said as he threw the nuts over his shoulder.

Aziraphale summoned his  _ real _ nutcracker from his kitchen and handed it over to Crowley who took it despondently. It was a simple metal thing with two handles and some teeth in between to crack nuts. 

“Well, I much prefer the little men with their funny beards, but I guess I’ll live if I can’t see them crack nuts. At least I can see them dance around on stage.” Crowley shrugged and all of his frustration melted away as he put down the two different nutcrackers and picked up their drinks. “What do you say, angel,” Crowley asked as he handed Aziraphale his cocoa, “are you up for the ballet tonight?”

Aziraphale smiled. The answer to that particular question was always “yes.”


	4. You're a Dream to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Cranberries  
> Title from The Cranberries' "Dreams"

Aziraphale was practicing making a cranberry sauce for the Christmas dinner he and Crowley were hosting for the Young’s, Anathema and Newton, and Madame Tracy and Shadwell. 

It was not going spectacularly. Crowley could tell, despite the fake smile plastered onto the angel’s face. He decided something needed to be done to distract his beloved from the mess before him. 

And the something Crowley decided on? Picking up a handful of powdered sugar from its container on the counter and blowing it in Aziraphale’s direction. 

“Crowley! Stop that at once. You’re making a terrible mess.”

The demon stopped himself from pointing out that Aziraphale had already covered nearly every surface with the sticky cranberry mixture. Instead, he said playfully, “Come on, angel, get me back.” 

Aziraphale huffed. Then he licked his lips which were covered in powdered sugar from Crowley’s antics. He smiled suddenly and reached his hand in the bowl he had been stirring, and flung a handful of sugary cranberries at Crowley. They landed square on Crowley’s face, and with that, Aziraphale’s bad mood had vanished. 

Crowley privately thought that he’d take a face full of cranberry every day if it kept his angel smiling. 


	5. Fired

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Fire

_ Fucking hell those fucking sods how could they just throw him me out like that? _ \- Crowley’s thoughts were interrupted by the collision of his body with that of another person, causing his box of plants and papers to fall to the concrete. 

“Fuck!” He said, aloud this time.

Crowley was too caught up in his anger at being fired from his job of five years, to notice that the plump man he had run into was kneeling down on the sidewalk to pick up his papers and chattering away, saying soothing, nonsense phrases to calm them both (mostly Crowley). 

When Crowley did notice him, it was because the other man was politely tapping on Crowley’s ankle and saying, “Excuse me,” over and over with increasing volume.

“What?” Crowley snapped, suddenly incredibly annoyed by this man’s yammering. 

The blond man on the ground looked like a kicked puppy and he sat back on his heels. “No need to yell,” he said cooly, “I was only trying to ask if you wanted to save these poor plants. Their pots have shattered, but they’ll probably last until you can repot them. Of course, I could buy you some new pots since I was the one who can into you. Oh dear, I never said I was sorry, did I?”

Now Crowley looked, really looked, and listened to this nice man on the ground before him, cleaning up his mess. He looked like Crowley’s personal guardian angel, and he had such nice things to say even though all Crowley had managed to utter so far were single-syllabled shouts. Crowley was entranced by this talkative man.

“Nothing to be sorry for. Really. I wasn’t watching where I was going. Thank you for your help. Could- could I maybe buy you a coffee? And then maybe you could show me how to repot my plants? If you wouldn’t mind, uh...” he looked to the man for a name.

The man smiled. “It’s Aziraphale. I would love some coffee, but dear, there’s no reason to pretend with me, from the way those plants look like they’ve been cared for, I can tell you’re the real expert.”

Crowley smiled sheepishly and knelt to help pick up the rest of his mess. After dropping off his box of belongings in his car, he and the angel,  _ Aziraphale, _ walked to a coffee shop and had a delightful conversation about books, plants, and ineffable plans. 


	6. The Horse-Drawn Carriage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sleigh Bells

After the averted apocalypse, Crowley started to drive slower. Well, slower in his eyes...not so much in Aziraphale’s. The angel still found himself careening at 80 miles an hour through central London while Crowley congratulated himself for restraining from going 90. 

Aziraphale continued to complain, even as Crowley incrementally slowed down each day (he made it down to 70 once, after three weeks of trying), and the demon was getting frustrated. 

One day in mid-December, Crowley had had enough, so when he came to pick his angel up for dinner that night, he was sitting in the back of a very fancy horse-drawn carriage complete with sleigh bells and garlands and plush red seats.

Aziraphale appeared in his doorway when he heard one of the horses make a sound that was suspiciously close to “angel,” and he lit up like a Christmas tree. 

“Oh, Crowley! This is marvellous!”

Crowley smirked. “I thought you’d like it. Can’t go over 20 miles an hour, this guy,” he said, patting the side of the carriage.

Aziraphale eagerly climbed up and sat next to Crowley. The demon was about to holler to the driver, but Aziraphale stopped him. 

“Wait, first, I want to thank you. I know you brought this as kind of a joke, but I really do appreciate it. And second, I’m sorry for complaining so much about your driving. I trust you not to get us killed it’s just quite, quite fast and I don’t think I’ll ever be used to the thing.”

Crowley smiled genuinely and pulled a blanket over their legs. “Well then, angel, enjoy this while it lasts, ‘cause tomorrow the Bentley’s back and we’re going full speed!”

Aziraphale put his head in his hands, and made a noise, but upon further inspection, Crowley discovered that he was laughing. The demon put his arm around Aziraphale and they settled in for a slow, cozy carriage ride. 


	7. Stargazing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Silent Night

“Fancy going stargazing?” asked Crowley, lazily. 

Aziraphale stared. “It’s mid-December, Crowley. We’ll freeze.”

“No we won’t,” he said decisively. “You won’t even feel the cold, promise.” The demon snapped his fingers. “Boom. You’re cold-proof.”

“Well sometimes I quite like the c--” 

Crowley interrupted him with a smirk. “I know, I know, angel. It’s just for tonight. You’ll change back in the morning like a chilly Cinderella.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Alright then, you’ve convinced me.”

Later that night, Crowley and Aziraphale made the journey out to the countryside to a spot that Crowley swore was second to none (because even ethereal and occult beings couldn’t see stars in the middle of London). When they arrived, Crowley laid out an incredibly soft and smushy blanket and they laid down next to each other, closer than they usually would. 

Crowley pointed out the constellations that he helped create and he was so happy here that Aziraphale found himself wishing he was cold so he had an excuse to snuggle up to the demon.

Then it just slipped out. “Move here with me.”

“What,” Crowley deflected, “to this field? Where will you keep your books?”

Aziraphale sat up and Crowley followed suit. “I’m serious, Crowley. We could get a cottage with a garden and go stargazing whenever you want. And I could keep a library with all my books and then I wouldn’t have to keep pretending to sell them to those bloody  _ people.” _

Crowley laughed and grabbed the angel’s hands. “Yes, I want that. I want you, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale bit his lip and then said, “I- I want you as well, dear.”

“Well then, that’s settled. We’re moving out here and starting a new life together.”

Aziraphale squeezed Crowley’s hands. “Yes, my dear. Yes we are.”


	8. The Road Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Choir  
> The song quoted here is "The Road Home" by Stephen Paulus with lyrics by Michael Dennis Browne. It's quite beautiful and I recommend checking it out.  
> Enjoy!

Every now and then, Crowley would buy tickets for him and his angel boyfriend for events that Aziraphale would undoubtedly love, and that Crowley would pretend to dislike, but secretly actually enjoyed. 

Tonight was one of those times. Crowley and Aziraphale got dressed up and took the Bentley to a performance of the Highgate Choral Society. 

Crowley seemed quite on edge, but Aziraphale chalked it up to having to listen to strangers perform for two hours, which often made Crowley at bit tetchy. 

They arrived at the venue, made their way inside, and took their seats which were front and center. Aziraphale glanced down at the program and saw several of his favorites, including Fauré’s _ Requiem  _ and a few Eric Whitacre’s pieces. The last song on the program was one he’d never heard of, called “The Road Home” by Stephen Paulus. 

Soon, the concert began and Aziraphale enjoyed every moment, every soaring harmony, and every sway of the conductor’s arms. 

During one of the last Eric Whitacre songs, Crowley excused himself, which Aziraphale thought was odd. Frustratingly, he was distracted for the rest of the song. However, when the last notes of Eric Whitacre’s piece ended and the applause finished, his attention was brought back to the stage as the conductor turned around and began to speak. 

“Thank you for coming, everyone. We’ve got one more piece for you, and for this last song, I’d like to welcome a special guest to the stage.” There was a twinkle in her eye as she extended her hand toward the right side of the stage, and to Aziraphale’s great surprise, out walked Crowley! “This is Mr. Anthony Crowley, and he will be joining us in singing ‘The Road Home.’ Enjoy.”

The conductor turned back to her choir and Crowley took a place in the front row next to the other men. 

_ “Tell me, where is the road _

_ I can call my own, _

_ That I left, that I lost _

_ So long ago? _

_ All these years I have wandered, _

_ Oh when will I know _

_ There's a way, there's a road _

_ That will lead me home?” _

Aziraphale smiled. This was a lovely piece and he was quite thrilled to see Crowley up on stage singing along. He only wished Crowley had told him beforehand so Aziraphale could join as well!

_ “Rise up, follow me, _

_ Come away, is the call, _

_ With the love in your heart _

_ As the only song; _

_ There is no such beauty _

_ As where you belong; _

_ Rise up, follow me, _

_ I will lead you home.” _

The choir finished the last words, but the pianist continued to play, repeating the melody once again. Aziraphale’s jaw dropped as Crowley stepped to the front of the stage and dropped onto one knee. 

“Angel, You’re my song and my dream. I’ve been lost for so long and you’ve finally led me home. Will you do me the honor of being my home forever? Marry me, Aziraphale?”

Crowley waited patiently on stage as Aziraphale scrambled to get to the stage faster than he’d ever moved before. The angel rushed up the stairs to the stage dropped to his knees and practically attacked Crowley with a hug. 

“Yes, you absolute sap, of course I’ll marry you.”

(“The Road Home” was their first dance at their wedding a year later.)


	9. Roasting on an Open Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Chestnuts  
> A bit short today, but I enjoyed this little snippet.

With a lot of extra time on their hands, Crowley and Aziraphale often found themselves taking long, leisurely walks all over London. Of course, Aziraphale would want to stop in at almost every cutesy store they passed which Crowley begrudgingly tolerated, since Aziraphale didn’t mind that he spent far too long in any plant shops they passed. 

Today, Aziraphale was in a shop that was literally called “Tacky Trinkets.” Crowley pointed out how ridiculous this name was, but Aziraphale still insisted on going inside. Crowley took one step into the store and was overwhelmed by the incredibly strong smell of some kind of terrible pumpkin-scented product. It was too much for his snake tongue, so he excused himself and rushed back out of the shop. He was about to settle himself leaning up against the outside wall of the shop, when he saw a chestnut vendor outside one of the nearby shops. 

Usually, out of principle, Crowley would never purchase food that was cooked outside by a stranger, but he knew Aziraphale would adore trying some of the vendor’s freshly roasted chestnuts. 

He peeked back into the shop and found Aziraphale was engrossed in a conversation with the owner, giving Crowley enough time to grab some chestnuts and resume looking terribly bored. 

When Aziraphale finally emerged from the shop, Crowley gave up all plans of presenting the chestnuts in some kind of romantic fashion, and instead thrust the brown paper bag at Aziraphale hurriedly like a schoolboy handing his crush a hand-picked bouquet of flowers. 

Despite this, Aziraphale was thoroughly charmed and Crowley earned a sweet kiss on the cheek, which  _ definitely _ didn’t cause him to blush as red as Rudolph. 


	10. Silver (and on to Gold)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Silver and Gold. (now I didn't really get the gold in here but y'know *shrugs*

_ 2045 _

Aziraphale straightened his bowtie and reached into his pocket to run his fingers along the velvet box inside. He was meeting Crowley for dinner. It was their twentieth wedding anniversary and they were having dinner at the Ritz, as they often did, but specifically because it was where they had what they’d come to consider their first date together. 

When the angel arrived at the restaurant, he thanked the cab driver (Aziraphale had insisted on taking a grimy cab for some reason Crowley couldn’t fathom) and made his way inside the restaurant.

He caught sight of the dining room and took in a quick breath. It was beautifully decorated with silver balloons, streamers, and quite tasteful arrangements. The room was full of people who Aziraphale didn’t recognize right, but right in the middle of the room, at a table for two, sat Crowley. He was grimacing at his napkin until Aziraphale walked up to the table. 

Crowley looked up and grinned. “Angel. Welcome to our silver anniversary extravaganza!”

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. “E-extravaganza?”

“Don’t worry, angel, none of these people have any idea why the restaurant is decorated like the Tin Man threw up in here. They won’t bother us one bit. Please, sit.”

Aziraphale smiled softly. “Thank you, Crowley. It really is beautiful in here.” He took the seat across from his husband and raised his already full wine glass toward Crowley. “To our silver anniversary, and many, many more.”

Crowley clinked his glass with Aziraphale’s and they enjoyed a lovely meal together, bickering about something or other, as always. 

After they’d finished dessert, Aziraphale pulled out the small box and placed it on the table in between them. The demon smirked. “I thought we did that part already.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Please, Crowley. There isn’t a ring in here, you wily serpent, but a gift for you, for our anniversary.”

Taking the box gently, Crowley opened it and revealed a pair of silver cufflinks in the shape of wings. “Oh, angel, these are beautiful. Thank you.”

The angel blushed and reached across the table to hold his husband’s hand. “You deserve all the best, darling.”


	11. Pining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Pining

Crowley had come to accept that his roommate, Ezra, was _ not _ into him. 

They’d been paired together by chance freshman year, when Crowley’s infatuation began, but chose to continue living off campus together for the next few years. This proved very effective in some respects, but in others (most notably Crowley’s extreme crush) it was, perhaps, not the perfect environment.

The reason Crowley knew that Ezra was not interested in him romantically, was because the blond man had rejected all of Crowley’s advances.

Crowley had tried everything he could think of, without seeming creepy. After all, if he lost his best friends because he couldn't stop thinking about kissing Ezra, he’d never forgive himself. 

Crowley had dropped hints over their shared dinners, bought him hot cocoa with a little heart written on the side of the to-go cup, and even began hugging and touching Ezra's arm more often. He tried to be the one who paid whenever they went to the cinema together and when they stayed in to watch food network, Crowley always ended up grabbing Ezra's hand...and oh my God they were actually dating and Crowley had no idea. There'd even been one time where they'd kissed while a bit drunk. How could he have missed this?

Later that day when Crowley confronted Ezra about it, the blond smiled and said that yes, he was under the impression that they'd been together for over a month, but that Crowley was the type to take things quite slow. Crowley quickly proved him wrong by leaning in for a kiss before the end of Ezra's sentence. 


	12. Ye Faithful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Caroling

Crowley had always found that Christmas carols made his feet hurt a bit, as if he’d entered a church, but somehow this year Aziraphale had convinced him to tag along with his caroling group. They ended up in some quaint neighborhood that Crowley didn’t recognize and began going door to door singing in beautiful harmonies. (Crowley pretended to sing for the first several houses, but soon Aziraphale tired of that and elbowed him aggressively. Crowley started singing properly at the next house.)

During the short walk between houses, Crowley started complaining that he wasn’t part of “ye faithful,” which, for some reason, made Aziraphale laugh. Then he admitted that maybe he wasn’t quite as faithful as he used to be, at least in Heaven. His faith in Her was still strong. Aziraphale didn’t quite sound sad when he said this, but Crowley could tell it was bringing back some less than pleasant memories. Crowley grabbed the angel’s hand and they sang happily together for the rest of the night. Crowley privately thought that although his faith in the Almighty was weak, his faith in Aziraphale had never been stronger. 


End file.
